The Secret Diary Of A New Girl
by jennyamygreen
Summary: The story of a life changing event which would be remembered for years to come... this is what new girl Sarah knew would happened when she first lay her eyes upon Oliver Lockwood. In a journey full of mystery and romance, we follow their story.


**Hi, this is my first story that I've posted so please let me know what you think and how I can improve. This is a story which I wrote based on the first of the Twilight saga books.**

**Thursday March 12th**

Just finished packing. It's been twelve years since I've been to Spokane, to that desolate, feeble excuse for a town. I've never thought about going back, back to the place in which I was born, where my life first began. But I don't ever regret the decision which my mother decided to make when she left all those years ago. Not that I had much of a choice anyway.

From San Francisco to Spokane, so many things to despise about this change.

But what can I do? Nothing, that's what.

Anyway, I can hear my mother bellowing to me from the bottom of the staircase. Guess it's time to say goodbye.

**Friday March 13th**

I felt so sick when getting on that plane. Having to wave goodbye to my insane loving mother. My best friend. Never knowing when I'd see her again. She's travelling with her wannabe rock band around the US, and I'm not much of the groupie type. So I've agreed to stay with my father, Mike, for the foreseeable future.

A choice in which I have come to regret, drastically.

I'm dreading seeing him again, it's been almost a year. The awkward silences are going to be ongoing. Perfect.

**Saturday March 14th **

I landed this morning in the place that was once my home, but in all honesty, I didn't recognise anything. It was a land which had been forgotten, where the scenery was a constant colour scheme of brown, green and grey. Just being in this environment makes you depressed. I don't want to live here. I want to go home.

As I predicted, the car journey to Mike's was horrific. The small talk was cringe worthy, pointing out that I'd grown my hair since he last saw me. It was shorter. I've never been able to speak to Mike like I do my mother, they're just complete opposites. He's never been one to show emotions to anyone since my mother left him, apparently. This was another factor which made me want to go home – he's wasn't my mother.

He still lived in the house that both he and my mother bought together. A small white house which on looks onto one of the many forests that can be found in Spokane. My room is located at the front of the house, and it was clear that he'd put a lot of thought into my arrival. The house was explicably tidy. The smell of burnt food had escaped from the oven, flowing around the entire house. Clearly I would be cooking from now on.

**Sunday March 15th**

The night was my worst enemy. I'd officially said goodbye to 8 hours of sleep a night. The rain was like a constant drum, beating against my window. The wind was ferocious, whistling in my ear. And the echo of Mike's snoring next door was just the cherry on top of the devil's cake.

And the morning was no sweeter, I had eaten hardly anything since leaving for Spokane, and the aroma of a full English breakfast escaping the kitchens grasp was too much for me to bear. However, it was to my despair when I walked downstairs to find that he hadn't cooked extra for me, forgetting that I was no longer a vegetarian. Thanks Mike. So I was forced to scavenge for a tiny bowl of cereal. Not a good start to my new life.

First day at a new school tomorrow, can't wait.

**Monday March 16th**

The weather was clearly going to be a problem for me; I had packed clothes which my mother said would be appropriate for the type of weather here. Yet when I opened my suitcase I found a selection of winter coats, hoodies and not a summer dress to be seen. Fair to say, this depressed me even more. Mike offered to drive me to my new school, never considering the fact that he drives an old Dakota which would submit me to a servitude of embarrassment. But the look on his face made me submissive with sympathy; I had to let him take me.

I'd never been the new girl at a school; I had always joined at the beginning of the school year. This was an experience which I did not want to remember. Yet, I did.

But not for the reason which most people would see as ordinary. I don't remember how scared I was, I don't remember many of the names of new faces in which I had met, or the surroundings of the school; where I was going, what I was doing. But I did remember one face more than any. I could describe his features perfectly, without having to pause for thought. He was mesmerising, even his name was like what you'd imagine an angels name to be. It could make any girls heartbeat speed up to a riveting pace.

His name was Oliver Lockwood, and I had to know him.


End file.
